


Piercing Light

by Thedis



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Bioforge AU, F/M, I'm gonna start slow but there may be some manslaughter later, M/M, Slow Burn, Steel Legion AU, and maybe some makeouts if im feeling bold, ezreal and taric are also a thing, ive kept the age of everyone ambiguous but lux and ez are around 18, there will be some amount of violence but little to no explicit gore, this is based on bioforge darius and steel legion lux, who knows for darius really, will add new tags as i figure out what the hell im doing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-06-06 12:17:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15194615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thedis/pseuds/Thedis
Summary: The onslaught of the Void has forged unlikely alliances. Despite the great strength of their union, the young megacity of Deus struggles not to break beneath the cultural differences of the former Demacia and Noxus, with not every high ranking member ready to support the new metropolis so easily. Amidst the plots and prejudice, an unlikely couple begins to find solace in one another.





	1. Prison Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lux finds out two outrageous facts, and in a spontaneous meddling addresses one to cope with the other.

The Steel Legion Academy's dimly lit gym was filled with the noise of bare feet on rubber mats, panting and a scent of sweaty adolescents.  
Flickers of cold light painted the skin of the young people training in hand to hand combat beneath the neon tubes. Every so often, a thump and frustrated noise indicated a temporary victory, but one couple stood out from the others - neither of them had managed to fell their opponent since the very beginning of the lesson.  
"Giving up, Lux? I knew you'd make the smart call... Eventually." The blonde boy's equally flaxen counterpart grinned and flicked her ponytail without leaving her stance or getting off her toes.  
"You wish, Ezreal."  
Ezreal narrowed his eyes, sweat glistening on his forehead. He wasn't letting his guard down, either.  
"Dammit. Provocation just doesn't work on you, huh?" Lux gave her friend her brightest smile.  
"Provocation? I thought those were compliments."  
It might have been to distract her, but for a moment, Ezreal's eyes darted to his left, and his limbs seemed to freeze a little.  
Instead of using the opening to attack him and bring their stalemate to an end, she followed his look to see what had caught his attention.  
Her jaw almost dropped.  
"One week, Ez? You're here _one week_ , and you're already fawning over the physical instructor?", she hissed.  
Ezreal's eyes returned to her and widened in faux surprise before narrowing in even more fake disbelief.  
"What? Noooo, shut up."  
The girl's shin slammed into his and sent him straight to the floor with a dramatic and satisfying bump.  
"Oh my God," said Lux, "really? It's true?"  
As Ezreal lay on his back, groaning in pain and humiliation, she appeared on the edge of his vision with her eyebrow raised and extended a hand for him to take.  
Not being petty, he took it and rose to his feet, only to meet Lux's scolding gaze.  
"I don't even have to tell you how problematic that is, now, do I?"  
He rolled his eyes.  
"Relax, Lux, we're not..." Ezreal realised where he had tried to go with that sentence and cursed silently. Habit.  
"Not in Demacia? Except we are! Rules are different here, Ez." Her eyes softened. She knew her friend wasn't exactly the type for strict rules, and she understood.  
Ezreal was looking again at Taric, who was talking to two of their fellow trainees, and gently but firmly using his strong hands to correct their posture.  
From the way that Ez was staring, he might as well have broadcasted "god i wish that were me" to the whole academy.  
Lux sighed.  
Her best friend, crushing on his sports teacher - and despite all the girls who threw the exchange trainee the very looks he was giving Taric right now.  
"I get it. You've got it bad. Just don't do anything reckless, okay?"  
Ezreal nodded enthusiastically.  
"Thank you, Lux. Really. Oh, look! He's coming this way! Quick, hit m- OW!"

Ezreal's new crush kept giving Lux's thoughts a run for their money in her shuttle home.With the amalgamation of Noxus and Demacia a generation ago, the rules had without a doubt become more lax, but Lux, with her own occasional bitterness, had been raised traditionally in her family of Demacian nobles.  
There were certain do's and don'ts, and among the latter there was a spot for dating teachers of a military academy who probably had a solid ten years of lifetime on the suitor, just to make the whole situation even more problematic.  
Then again... The Void was ever present, and growing stronger.  
It had been for a long, long time, perpetually gaining traction, until even the greatest of enemies, like Demacia and Noxus had to form alliances.  
If that was possible, to some extent and the megacity of Deus could exist and stay as one (if actually torn up inside) couldn't Ezreal and Taric?  
What did it matter, when any day Deus could be overrun and consumed by the creatures swarming out the numerous portals that, on clear nights, could be seen as menacing purple streaks shining through the everlasting fog?  
No, she could not allow those thoughts.  
The Steel Legion was not to be underestimated.  
It was a well-oiled machine constructed of Noxian acknowledgement of pure skill, and Demacian military and discipline training, backed by high tech support, delivered (along with exchange trainees, like Ezreal) once a month from Metroica.  
The Steel Legion stood strong.  
Lux had believed in its structure and cause when she had fought her entire family in order to be allowed enrollment, and she believed in it now.  
Would she have to sacrifice that belief to justify her best friend's affair?  
Rain began to patter against the outside of the window as she leaned her forehead against the pane, watching the lights move by in the layers and layers of grey.

During family dinner, Lux found that her brother seemed to have no such doubts. She wondered what he felt he had to prove by boasting about his arrests while they were eating - she couldn't have cared less. As a fully educated Steel Legion soldier, Garen served as an Elite in the police force, and fulfilled the role as their parents' pride and joy. In that order.  
It was most likely the reason they let him show off like that.  
Not Lux, though, never her.  
She could hardly disagree with her parents that Noxian high culture still proposed a risk to long time peace, but that was not enough for mother and father Crownguard. She suspected that Garen's freedoms with their parents were not just based on his rank, but also on his much more radical views on anything of Noxian origin.  
To Lux, his stories were annoying, but also provided an opportunity of gathering intelligence and some sort of distraction after today's dilemma, and she refused to let them slide.  
"So, what did you arrest him for?", she wondered.  
Garen seemed to have anticipated that question. "I'm glad you asked, Lux! He was sneaking about in the upper city and you could see his malevolent intentions from a mile away. Who knows what would have happened had we not intervened?"  
Lux blinked in disbelief, then once more to ensure she hadn't misheard Garen.  
"Are you serious?  
If the story was true, this had just been moronic, even for her occasionally somewhat dense older brother.  
"Luxanna!"  
Her mother's voice was a whiplash. Lux lowered her eyes, but Garen simply shook his head.  
"It is no matter, mother. Listen, Lux, once we addressed Darius, he started to threaten us. I can assure you, it was a justified arrest."  
But the bags under his eyes and his third glass of water told her a slightly different story, a story in which an overworked, possibly hungover and/or sleep deprived Garen had hastily arrested a paragon of the Noxianbound party, who just so happened to be something like rival to him. That paragon being Darius at least explained the boasting.  
If Lux knew her brother at all, in this state he wouldn't listen to her reason, no matter what trouble his action could get him into. She was sure that trouble laid ahead. More than sure, actually.  
But her father was too preoccupied with his own currently suboptimal health, and her mother between tending to her husband and showering her firstborn in praise - all three of them were too proud to right their own wrongs when the wronged party stood in so much as loose correlation to Noxus.  
Well, it wouldn't be Lux's first time infiltrating a prison.

The infiltration itself went more easily than acceptable, really, even counting in the new stealthing device she had received from the Steel Legion. Clipped onto any piece of her clothing, it bent the light around her, rendering her invisible to all but heat screening devices and stray cats. Maybe she should have felt bad for using a gift from order against law, but the police and the Legion were not the same, and as long as she was doing the right thing, it was in the spirit of the Legion, was it not? She was doing the right thing.  
The mantra was repeated over and over in her head as she tiptoed past the fifteenth guard. Garen, shockingly, was not as talented with tech as he ought to be in his position and tended to leave his MoCom applications open with the portable device on his desk when he went to the restroom.  
Lux had figured out his password when he was still 12, and he hadn’t changed it since then.  
As the result, she had made short and easy work of finding the prison layout and current position of Darius without Garen ever suspecting a thing.  
It had been child's play.  
Guard 16 and 17 were none the wiser and so, around 20 minutes after sneaking in, Lux found herself in the deep vicinity of the prison with but one door separating her from the convict she wished to converse with. Reaching to her belt, her fingertips found a small, convexly shaped black piece of plastic, and her thumb the red button on top of it.  
Immediately, the alerts started sounding, high and shrill. Rhythmic ones that meant: ‘Top priority, all manpower needed. Trust the tech to guard the baddies and move your asses.’  
Lux suppressed a snicker as two guards busted out of the special equipment security cell.  
All this chaos thanks to a cheap bomb, the kind bought at a thrift shop in the right neighborhood of Deus.  
Too. Easy.  
Having memorized the guard rotations of that night (the Deus Police Department did keep the most bountiful database for its high ranking members), Lux knew that they had been the only security, but no matter how much she would have loved to just walk in fully visible, she could only reveal herself after she had redirected the light around the security cameras.  
She took a deep breath, then bent the beams so that their laser points were joined at the camera's weak spots and brought upon its own destruction.  
As planned, she had been fast enough for their failure to still be justifiable as a result of the explosion of another camera so many layers of concrete above them.

  
Now that guards and surveillance were taken care of, Lux uncloaked and observed the room more carefully.  
It was dark: dark walls, dark floors, stone styled like a bathroom, some control panels, and bisecting the room further on, a panel of generously thick titan glass.  
Behind it, at the very end of the rectangular room, was the silhouette of a hulking man brutally lit by the cold lamps. His head was lowered and loose strands of short, brownish ebony hair fell into his frown-riddled forehead.  
He was shirtless, showing a field of bruises and little cuts all over his chest.  
Darius, no doubt.  
Lux shivered as she remembered how many Demacians had died by his hand back when there still had been such things as Demacians or Noxians.  
Yet, she believed her brother to be a similar character to the descendants of the Noxian tradition.  
A dry, scornful chuckle could be heard from behind the glass, and Lux noted that Darius was now looking at her.  
"What," he said, with a voice for which husky would have been an understatement, "does Crownguard resort to children now, to be my torturers? And they call me cruel."  
His face was worn by stress and anger, no doubt, but he looked more than young for the age the records made him out to be.  
Lux, successfully feigning calm, cocked her head at his statement while entering the key from Garen’s device into one of the panels opposite the glass.  
"Cruel to whom? You, or the children?"  
The hunk of a man spat.  
"They really taught you to see monsters when you look at us, didn't they?"  
All glass panels had retreated into the ceiling, and a single tap on the right screen made Darius' shackles snap open.  
Nothing stood between Lux and the Noxian man now. Her heart beat fast but she would not let its anxiety dim her courage. Rationally, the captive hardly proposed a threat in this state.  
"Then why is a Crownguard breaking you out of prison?"  
The shocked silence satisfied Lux. Darius had not expected that.  
"So you're Luxanna. This is a trap. Has to be," he grumbled.  
Strange it was, hearing her full name from the mouth of a stranger.  
Lux shrugged. "If you say so. Personally I don't think you should be here just for being Noxianbound. But go on! I, for one, am leaving now, with or without you."  
As Lux took a step towards the door, she could almost hear his teeth grinding.  
"Wait!," snapped Darius, and she felt triumphant as his reluctant call wound its way past pride and clenched jaws.  
"I'm going to need some help."

  
With all - okay, most - of her fear of him gone, the soldier strode confidently towards Darius’ shape, ready to help him escape despite the sorry state of his body.  
Lux could feel the heat radiating off his muscles, and it felt like she was approaching a giant apex predator as she offered her shoulder for him to lay an arm over.  
On each shoulder and chest muscle, there was a large ring of metal, with a tube going inwards, like tunnels, or brutal, unyielding veins.  
Looking more closely, smaller, but otherwise similar openings could be spotted in symmetrical order across Darius' body.  
The shock at the discovery didn't allow her more than a whisper.  
"You're... Bioforge... I... I thought they weren't made anymore."  
He snorted. "We aren't made, we are born, just like you. But you're young. You still think that peace isn't built on lies."  
Despite assuming his age was slowed by his augmentations, if Lux' math was correct, from the way he looked now, he would have been turned after the peace treaty which included the ban of bioforge technology. Even if she didn't want to admit it, Darius' words made sense.  
For now, Lux ignored them and shook her head as she tapped in the code to release the handcuffs. The man's heavy torso slumped onto the floor like a wet sack of meat.  
"That explains your... less than optimal condition. Do they have any capsules here?", she asked while crouching down to ensure the man was okay.  
Darius grunted as he raised himself onto his elbows.  
"Don't know. I guess you know what happens to a Bioforge off the elixir, huh?"  
Lux, who knew her scientific history, nodded.  
"They let it out of me as a means of torturing me, to let it sog into the drains in front of my eyes."  
She realised it was a marvel that the man she was speaking to was still capable of even forming words, and rushed to take his arm over her shoulder.  
The limb weighed mercilessly on her body and she knew the escape would be more difficult than expected.  
"But, I have a stash," Darius began.  
"Let's get moving," Lux interrupted, "You can explain along the way."

So it happened: a young woman of a formerly noble Demacian noble household and a genetically modified supersoldier of fanatic Noxian descent began limping through the prison together, quietly discussing their next step while heading for a back door. Or rather, a back wall.  
Darius grunted at the sight of it.  
"Don't tell me I left my cosy cell for you to get lost, girl." Lux simply smirked. "Watch, boy."  
The bioforged man’s eyebrows were raised at the disrespect, and then even higher when his escort lasered a door into the wall big enough for the both of them to crawl through.  
In front of them, the wall crumbled away as Lux finished her handiwork to reveal a large, gaping air vent hiding behind the stone.  
"Don't worry," chirped Lux, "it's turned off." Then she slapped something on the ceiling of the vent, next to where it bent upwards.  
"Come on," she said, "this last strife and we're out of here."  
She leaped vertically into the vent, and a soft clang told Darius that the girl must have found something to hold on to. "Hurry," she hissed from above.  
Under considerable physical effort made clear by a series of pained noises, he crawled in and glanced upwards. There was Lux, holding out a heavily gloved hand.  
With the little power he had left, he rose, took her hand, and jumped.  
Lux pulled as hard she could, and Darius' roar was stifled only because of the mind-numbing pain in every fibre of his flesh as he desperately pulled himself upward.  
The girl had fastened her belt to a nearby pylon of cement and thus avoided being drawn back into the vent as she fought against gravity for the life of a stranger, if not an enemy. The seconds dragged themselves into imagined hours as the girl focused her entire being on this single physical task, doubts and worries fading into bleak, dumb, _fierce_ determination. The weight on Lux's muscles, fit though she was, began to become unbearable. How did she ever think she could move such a hulk of a man, anyway? She might as well stop this folly now.

  
_No._

  
With an almost animalistic cry, Lux gave one last pull. There was a dull noise, a grunt, and suddenly, the pain in her arms began to fade, and the blood pumping through her ears gave way to the sound of her labored breaths.  
It was done.  
Darius let himself fall next to the opening, panting heavily, and his eyes wandered the scene around them. The girl had led him into a backyard, presumably outside the prison’s defenses, bathed in the sickly orange glow of the rapidly setting sun. Or what was left of it after traversing the mist. It fell on overflowing trash containers, three windowless, anthracite facades and a quickly retreating racoon, in Darius’ mind member of the only species besides cockroaches which not even the most gruesome Void invasion would ever render extinct.  
Lux, nearly as exasperated as him, wiped the beads of sweat from her brow.  
"We have to keep moving," she muttered.  
"I removed the lid beforehand, but I still have to trigger a bomb so they won't detect my work with the wall. We can't have the police and the Steel Legion fighting each other."  
Darius nodded, and slowly dragged himself away from the opening. She stood up and offered her hand to him once more, but this time he eyed her suspiciously.  
"Are you planning to trap me, girl?"  
"You seemed happy enough to trust me up until now. What happened?"  
Darius paused, then gave a snort.  
"Right," he said, taking her hand, "I simply forgot they'd have let me die anyway. Under that Crownguard's orders."  
Lux set the detonation timer, heaved the injured Noxian onto her shoulders once more and dragged him forward. "Move."  
She would think about her family later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks,
> 
> This is my first ever work published, so I'd adore some feedback!  
> Special thanks goes to my beta reader starmakesart on Tumblr, who's been a more than capable help and sweet person.
> 
> If you're on Tumblr and need one more League blog to follow, you can find me at @leagueofbullshit, my art blog is called @the-flying-beetle, you'll also catch some DariLux there. ;>
> 
> For now, I hope you enjoy my writing, and see you on the next one!


	2. This is Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lux shares a moment with Darius, and does not share one with Garen.

"Are you sure this is it?" Out of all places, Lux hadn't exactly expected Darius' hideout to be located under a bridge. The way it looked, it was more of a dirty platform. Only a joke of a railing separated the two of them from a deep canal in which shuttles buzzed by in their tubes, adorning the mist with flashes of neon lights while their hums lingered heavy in the air.  
"Shut up," Darius snapped.The Steel Legion soldier raised a disapproving eyebrow at her companion, who was, at this point, relying on her to stand. In Lux's opinion, he was in no position to be rude. Fortunately for him, she was as nice as she was smart. Almost.  
Darius let weary eyes wander over the solid concrete in front of him before slamming a palm onto it at about eye level. He didn't even flinch as something silvery shot out of the wall which Lux realised had been a blood sampler, judging by the red drops running down his fingers. So we bleed the same colour after all, she thought.  
A thrice intersected green circle began to glow acid green where Darius had put his hand, then the lines seemed to separate and move, forming the shape of a door.  
Inside it, the concrete retreated backwards, then to the side, forming an entrance.  
Lux would have said something witty or sassy, or maybe just awed, had the Noxian, letting go of her shoulder, not dragged himself forward with such reckless abandon that it took her speech away.  
Step by step, despite blood from a thousand little wounds trickling down his legs, the man limped to the left wall of the room, and in a last effort, pressed his palm against it before he slid down, leaving a smeared bloodstain on the grey.  
Lux's heart seemed to shake her whole body with its pounding as she saw the man hit the floor in front of her.  
She leapt at him, trying to roll him on his back. In a miraculous feat, she succeeded, even ending up holding his head, and followed his eyes to something at the wall he had just touched.  
Lux saw that similarly to the entrance, which was beginning to shut behind her, the wall reacted to the contact and opened to reveal a cabinet holding apparatuses of silver and some tanks filled with glistening green liquid.  
"Canulas," Darius croaked, "tank..."  
The words seemed to drain the last drop of power from him, but it was enough information for Lux.  
She set his head down on the floor, bolted to her feet and quickly retrieved two of the cylindrical steel pieces, which she found fit perfectly into the holes on Darius' chest.  
Lux allowed herself a single breath - she needed to stay calm. Next was the elixir.  
The Crownguard daughter silently praised the unknown designer of the tank for making the button red and easy to find.  
PUSH, it said, and she did. Her reward was the button emerging from the tank and revealing the ends of two hoses.  
The rest was a no-brainer.  
As the see-through tubes filled with elixir which pumped through the canula into the massive man's torso, Lux began to slowly relax, watching Darius' chest as it heaved up and down as his lungs began to correctly filter oxygen again.

Relieved of the tension, one soldier allowed herself to slump down at the other's side. It was a strange moment.  
If Darius shared Lux's awareness that they should both be trying to kill each other rather than reveling in their recent win in a race against death, he didn't let it on.  
She couldn't help using the opportunity to glance over his Goliath frame: The warrior's eyes were shut in exhaustion as his labored breathing forced the muscles on his chest and stomach to ripple like the cogs of a well-oiled machine.  
One of his legs was slightly drawn up, but other than that, his pose suggested dauntless trust.  
When Lux's gaze returned to Darius' face, his eyes were no longer shut, but staring straight into hers.  
The lighting inside the hideout was sterile, but generous, and allowed her to see see his features more clearly than during their escape.  
He had sort of an eagle nose, high cheekbones and square jaws that could probably snap a neck if they had been just a bit wider. In the middle of it all shone bright, unnaturally green irises.  
Those attributes could certainly create a monster when tinted with aggravation, but right now, Lux could see no such emotion in them.  
Darius appeared peaceful and almost entranced, content to simply breathe, his expressive eyes half-lidded in a somewhat gentle expression.  
Slowly, very slowly, he raised a large hand towards her face, but then, a mere inch away from her skin, hesitated.  
Lux didn't back down or break eye contact.  
Time slowed down as Darius' fingertips ever so slightly grazed her cheek and lingered for the shortest moment before retreating.  
"You look nothing like your brother," the Noxian mumbled softly.  
Lux didn't know what to say.  
"I... I should bloody well hope so."  
Her retort drew a low chuckle from Darius which spread an unfamiliar warmth through her chest.  
His head fell back to face the ceiling again, and his lids sunk lower with every regular breath until his eyes were wholly covered, and his every muscle relaxed.  
Lux stared for a moment and ascertained she saw right: Darius was asleep. Deeply, carefreely asleep in the company of his supposed enemy.  
She could only imagine what strain had been put on his body during the roughly 24 hours of captivity to elicit such a reaction at the first absence of immediate physical stress.

Lux got up, checked her portable device and stifled a not very ladylike curse. The evening had already progressed far enough for her parents to grow suspicious if she didn’t come home very, very soon. Examining the base wouldn't be an option now, but she swore to herself that she would return. Once Darius awoke, it would be difficult for him to navigate the city, a towering brute and escaped convict with the appearance of anyone but a civilian. Perhaps she could help in keeping him supplied with food for as long as necessary.  
After the day's events, Lux couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible for his well-being.  
Only as a means to the end of obtaining information on Bioforge technology and Noxian plans, of course, she told herself hastily as she headed towards the exit.  
Nothing but good service in the name of Demacia.  
"Hey. Where are you going?"  
Lux froze dead in her tracks at the juggernaut’s words.  
Hadn't he been fast asleep? She turned and found bright green eyes fixated on her. As if she had been caught with one hand in the cookie jar, blood rushed to Lux's cheeks.  
Darius wasn't going to double cross her, was he? After their hard earned escape?  
But not in this state, surely. Darius remained awake, but neither his exhaustion nor his wounds had disappeared.  
"You know, uh. My parents will wonder where I am if I'm not home soon..."  
The man stared at her for a moment. Lux could not, for the life of her, determine what the Noxian was thinking - he seemed like he wanted to say something.  
A threat, maybe, or an order, to treat his wounds, to keep her mouth shut, to stay.  
Finally, Darius pursed his lips and only nodded, letting his head drop back again so that he was no longer looking at her.  
And then, he surprised Lux more than he had the entire day.  
"Be safe."

Lux's trip home went by far smoother than she could have expected. Her parents had probably already retired to their floor for the night, and Garen could not be found on their shared living level either.  
On one hand, this spared her a few lies, on the other, she found herself desperately wishing that just once, her mother or father would show enough interest in her to be concerned when she was out late.  
The thought arose in Lux's mind that she might just as well have spent the time with Darius, but she wrestled it back down quickly.  
Nobody could call the Crownguards overly loving, but preferring a former Noxian general over her own family was very disrespectful.  
In the end, for better or worse, Lux was their daughter. She exhaled as she called the elevator down to the living room. At least she had done something exciting today.  
Who could have known about the physical strength she could materialize when a human being's safety depended on it?  
The elevator doors opened with a ding and Lux stepped in.  
The black touchscreen showed a glowing blue symbol for each of the 5 levels: waves for the thermae in the basement, a chair for the living floor on ground level, and above that, ironically, a little heart for the domain of the Crownguard parents on the first floor.  
The second floor belonged to Garen, who had chosen a little lion's head to mark it on the elevator. Lux's symbol for her quarters on the third floor was a star.  
Back when she had picked it, stars had already been a rare sight amongst all the cloud and mist. From an early age, she felt herself drawn to their exquisite beauty and the feeling of eternity that overcame her each time she had the opportunity to admire them on a clear night.  
Oftentimes, she would sit before her window instead of sleeping like she had been told to do, just for one of those precious, quiet moments between her and the cosmos.  
As the elevator ascended, the young woman found herself lost in thought.  
The rooms she called her own had been added to the building only once her mother was found pregnant, as the original Crownguard residence had only been planned for one heir. It made her wonder if her birth had even been intentional. Yet, the floor with the most impressive panorama windows was hers and she hadn't been passed Garen's quarters, despite being secondborn.  
On a whim, her index finger tapped the lion's head on the panel. After today, she felt the overwhelming need to talk to somebody familiar. Maybe Garen was home.

The elevator halted and Lux set foot into a spacious living area, with rich blue couches around a coffee table to the left, and a little bar to the right. Yellow lamps not unlike her own illuminated the room in the growing darkness of the evening, and the riddled skies could be seen to her left and right through plexiglass panes that took turns with stripes of solid, anthracite walls.  
It all looked very solid and simple, yet noble. Every time she visited her brother, Lux hoped the designer had been paid handsomely for hitting Garen's aesthetic so precisely.  
It had been quite a while, though, since she had last been in his space, and the first few steps into it felt a little strange.  
Or was it really just that? Something felt very... Off. Unusually off.  
She decided to head towards the hallway opposite from the elevator which she knew lead to Garen's bath, his gym to the right, separated from the kitchen through a wall, and his bedroom on the left, similarly next to the living area.  
After few metres, a voice froze her step.  
"...that you not be distracted from your duties. Is that clear?"  
Lux's blood ran cold all of a sudden. She had been sure of her mother's presence in her own quarters. Mother Crownguard barely ever visited her children in their rooms. What brought her here?  
"Of course, mother."  
Oh, Garen was in trouble, and any sibling knew how easily trouble caught on between brothers and sisters if the parent was mad enough. Lux had no doubt that this was the situation.  
Her eyes darted to her left as something blinked and whirred on the coffee table. Garen's MoCom! And just receiving a message, at that.  
Lux's battle with herself lasted a fraction of a second before her curiosity overtook her.  
She tiptoed to the coffee table, picked up the device and entered the passcode.  
In all honesty, who left their phone unsupervised in this day and age? She would have scolded Garen, had his negligence not meant a plentiful source of information for Lux.  
It turned out that the message had not been just any text - and certainly not one intended for anyone else than her oh so dutiful, oh so Demacian older brother.  
The message in question was a selfie taken by a beautiful woman with long, red hair, intense green eyes and a pretty revealing top that flattered her cleavage as much as the angle of the photo.  
'You free tomorrow?,' the attached text said.

  
The blonde chuckled dryly. At least Garen's affair looked good. But who might she be? When Lux's eyes moved to the stripe at the top of the screen holding the name her brother had given this contact, they went wide.  
Katarina Du Couteau.  
She recognized that name. Something emerged from the fog of her memory. Noxian. Katarina was Noxian, or at least as Noxian as you could be in Deus. General Du Couteau, although aged, had still been prestigious enough in the military of Noxus that Lux knew of him through her homeschooling.  
Katarina must have been a toddler when Demacia had moved into the Immortal Bastion, bringing with them their own living space in the form of self building, high tech lodgings that attached themselves to all sides of the existent structures and now shaped the cityscape. Lux was sure that for anyone who had been conscious enough to notice the change and see it themselves, the partition between Noxus and Demacia was likely more significant than to herself, who had grown up after their merging.  
Then why was Katarina sending her brother a raunchy picture? To lure him into sharing information? Somehow, it did not feel that way to Lux.  
She was confused, very confused.  
She had come here to talk to someone, if sadly enough not close, at least trustworthy, only to be met with a scandalous secret. It made her want to scream.  
Suddenly, the hum of a glass door echoed down the hallway along with the clicking of heels.  
In the blink of an eye Lux decided that the outcome of her situation would be much more undesirable if her mother saw her.  
Luckily, she had not yet removed her cloaking device, so she turned it on and retreated safely behind one of the sofas before her mother emerged from Garen's room and made a beeline for the exit, followed sheepishly by her son.  
When the middle aged woman turned sharply on her heel before the elevator, Lux held back a gasp.  
A simple ring of platinum enclosed her brow like a strict halo, and her hair was put up flawlessly. The silvery streaks in its wheaten tone harmonized with the worn gold colour of her robe as well as the silverish corset-like tube around her waist.  
Irises of faded ice pierced her brother's, and Lux was more than glad not to be in his place.  
Even in her indoor gowns, her mother looked regal and frightening.  
"Furthermore, I expect it to be unnecessary that I need repeat myself to the heir of my own house."  
Her brother's head was lowered, and his brown hair hang somewhat sadly from his usually so proud head.  
"Yes, mother. Forgive me."  
"It is not me you wrong with your slacker performance, Garen, but Demacia itself. Remember that."  
Their mother disappeared inside the elevator, leaving Garen stricken and Lux paralyzed.  
She snapped out of it quickly, however, when she realised she had seconds to put the MoCom back on the table.  
Very, very carefully, she placed the piece of tech ontop of the glass pane, barely producing a clink.  
And not a moment too early.  
With a sigh, her brother turned on his heel in one fluid motion and started walking towards where she stood.  
Lux allowed herself a single step back and held her breath, watching.  
His fingers closed around the black cylinder of the MoCom, pressed the button at the end of it that produced the holographic interface and opened the message, just a foot from Lux's invisible body.  
As he stared at the screen, Garen's posture changed.  
His back straightened, his shoulders fell, releasing their protective tension and a smile curled on his lips. Typing clumsily, but with enthusiasm, he moved away from the spot where unbeknownst to him, his little sister was hoping for him not to hear her, and made for the bar at the other end of the room.  
Lux seized the opportunity to sneak along behind his back and call the elevator.  
As the door opened and closed after she had slipped inside, Garen threw a look over his shoulder and frowned.  
Lux exhaled in the certainty her brother would blame it on a bug in the house's programming.  
As she leaned back against the cold elevator wall, she knew that while her discovery had diminished her desire to talk to Garen, she could not turn her brother in, even if she wanted to.  
His own sister could simply not remember when he had last smiled sincerely, a smile that reached his eyes.  
Whatever he had with the Du Couteau daughter, it made him happy, and that was good enough for her.  
If he had known of Lux as Darius' liberator and cause of Augatha Crownguard's anger at her son... Garen wouldn't have been wrong not to want her for a sibling, anyway.  
She had never felt so alone.  
Lux closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. This is home, she reminded herself. This is home.

Somewhere in the western city, a dot on a holoscreen shone green again after a long period of blinking yellow, provoking a bird's caw.  
"I believe so, Beatrice," mused a samite, masculine voice.  
"And I am just as eager to hear what he has to tell."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Chapter 2 just one day after! This was already prepared, and I'm hoping this will get some of you readers a little more hooked after romance being very very sparse in Chapter 1. For now, there's exams though, so Chapter 3 might take me a while.
> 
> Feedback is as always more than welcome!


	3. Reparations and Preparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Darius visits an old friend, who has one thing in common with Lux: an upcoming event.

Darius dragged his hand over his face with a sigh that carried all the exasperation pent up in his body and soul. 'Be safe?' What was he, some kind of babysitter? A doting nanny? Or a still green, flustered school boy?

The man chuckled at the hilarity of it, then grunted as he pushed himself up so his back pressed against the wall.  
Green he was, for a part. He lifted his hand and stared at the bland skin, beneath which the flowing elixir once more canceled out the red of his own blood and made his pallor appear greyish.  
It had been an unexpected contrast against the cheek of the young Crownguard, and Darius wondered if that had caught her attention as well. He stopped himself right there. His actions had been moronic, even more so considering that he had hesitated, that his common sense had actually kicked in, and ended up forsaken for that one, stupid, innocent touch. It had scarcely felt real then, and even less so in hindsight.  
The warrior heaved his weight upwards while clinging to the bleak concrete for support. Try as he may, he could not deny the sense of purity the moment had left in his soul.  
It was already fading, and after recalling the memory one last time, Darius allowed it to slip away nearly without reluctance.  
There was nothing pure about him and there never would be.  
He had never had trouble accepting that before and he wouldn't start now.  
In this moment, his priority was to report all events of the last twenty-four hours to his superior as soon as his body had recovered enough to leave his shelter, and he intended to follow through.

Jericho Swain's residence would have been more than perilous to enter, had it not been for Darius' status and Bioforged Physiology, which made the countless ranks of defense mechanisms a mere nuisance.  
The Grand General had moved from the heart of the bastion upon the birth of Deus, but had organized himself a more than respectable substitute in the northwest end of the city.The building protruded from the solid surface that served to partition the city into districts, a remnant of a glorious past, times of bravery, battle amongst man and clear sunrises over a land untouched by the void.  
It was of a vertical shape, but slightly oval, its glass facade toned a deep, bluish black except for the beveled top storey, which emitted an unforgiving red light into the evening air and gave the tower the appearance of a hellish and yet strangely lifelessly burning torch.  
Surrounding the tower were no less than three dark barriers of a smooth, shiny surface that rendered them unscalable.  
Numerous red spots danced on the ground between them and made it clear that to become an uninvited visitor was to commit suicide.  
The gates were heavy, to say the least; two thick titanium doors on each wall, preceded closely by a force field.  
  
This was Swain's domain, where his control was absolute.  
Everything about the premise made it abundantly clear that no stranger was welcome here for a visit, if not on the host's precise terms. Darius would have scaled every single barrier if he had  to. If the walls, turrets and cameras were unforgiving, so at its heart, was Noxus.  
He had earned his rank at the head of his nation, defended it time and time again, and was never afraid to draw his axe and prove his worth once more.  
Win or die, those were the rules.  
There was no true place for weakness in the world, not in Noxus, not in Deus, not anywhere.

Layers of defense aside, the recognition panel with its faint green glow was also a familiar and much more convenient sight.  
It didn't suit Darius to be reminiscing so much in the first place.  
The second the blood sampler pierced his skin, the panel flashed green and the first of the  six doors parted for him, one by one.  
Only a day had passed since his capture, and while by now he had regained the strength to walk on his own, the damage done to his body by the absence of elixir for several hours slowed him considerably and made every movement more troublesome than the last.  
This was going to take years.

"Darius. At long last."  
The silhouette was cast into crimson by the glass that surrounded the office with its back turned towards Darius, facing the city lights outside. The former Grand General wore black, as he always did, and his posture suggested the usual presence of a wine glass in his right.  
His silvery hair was pulled into a bun at his neck, and his voice was calm. As was Darius'.  
"I would have been quicker had it not been for all of those miserable walls."  
Swain chuckled, and turned around to look his ally in the eye, his signature inquisitiveness inhabiting his aging features, even as he was jovially exchanging pleasantries.  
"You know the story, old friend."  
The two men approached each other, and Darius put a hand on the other's shoulder as they smiled at one another.  
"Well," he said, "I am relieved the council requires its members to reside with proper protection."  
His eyes gave the office a mocking once-over before finding Swain's again.  
"They might even have been a bit more generous to a man of your age missing an arm."  
Swain gave a hard, but hearty laugh, and Darius joined in. Both of them knew Swain could still kill anyone who was after his life with his own bare hands, and would be able to do so for years to come.  
If anything, the prosthetic only aided in that.  
The older man looked him up and down best as he could, Darius being the better half of a head taller.  
"You look horrible," Swain concluded with a frown, then, wine glass still in hand, he gestured to one of the minimalist armchairs to their side.  
"Take a seat, I shall have proper liquor brought, and something to eat, if you wish. My spies were hardly of any use, so I am dying to hear how you escaped that fool of a Crownguard's grasp this time. I have to admit, after all the time of our collaboration, you keep managing to surprise me."  
Something in Darius' chest tensed. Withholding information from his closest ally was out of question.  
Even when reporting properly, as he should, had a bitter taste of ratting out someone who had done him more than a kindness.  
For now, he accepted Swain's offer to sit and watched his host take a seat in the opposite armchair while sipping the wine. When had the glass become almost empty?  
Of course, no glance escaped the former trifarix of vision.  
"Wine?"  
"No, thank you."  
"Very well. I would apologize for making you crawl here in your state, but I know you understand I do not trust the communicative technology to withstand the efforts of today's talented young hackers. And one cannot hope to hire them all beforehand."  
Darius nodded.  
Swain did not fear his surroundings or even his own arm turning against him. All of those casualties he could deal with, but the older man was constantly aware that leaked knowledge would never be erased from the enemy's intelligence.  
Not that a breach in the Noxian operational software was all that likely to happen with every adept technician that had ever sought to damage him annexed into Swain's subordinates - not to mention the highly developed AI B-A3x, lovingly called Beatrice by her programmer and only user.  
The strategist liked to talk of code and technology as if he didn't know it like the back of his hand - quite literally.  
Darius' best guess was that Swain had wanted to meet him in person not only to see an old friend again, but also to judge his somewhat-subordinate by demeanor and not speech alone. He could respect that.  
And still, uttering the words Darius owed his friend came less easy to him than he was used to.  
"I'm afraid I can take no credit this time," he admitted, to which Swain raised an eyebrow.  
"Crownguard's own sister was the one who freed me. Not just cut me loose, but distracted the guards, let me out of the prison, and brought me to the nearest base."  
There was a brief pause.  
"Well, at least I am certain if you attempted to lie to me, you would tell me something believable."  
Swain refilled his glass, a soft gurgling sound in the lifeless quiet of the office. Somehow, it made Darius uneasy.  
"I doubt she has offered any real insight as to her intent?"  
The Bioforged shook his head, then froze. Suddenly it had dawned on him that he had never thought to actually ask.  
Perhaps the elixir loss was to blame for the blind trust he had shown the girl, or perhaps the lack of options.  
Darius didn't want to believe he had simply discarded the possibility of her dishonesty when the Crownguard daughter was known to have been deployed by her family to gather intel in the past.  
Shit.  
  
His silence didn't go unnoticed.  
"Is something the matter, my friend?"  
"It's... Been a long twenty-four hours."  
Swain, for his standards, smiled sympathetically.  
"I believe that." He got up, and in a dignified manner emptied his wine glass before placing it on his desk. Darius followed his example and rose to his feet, but not without a great deal of effort.  
"Feel free to use my residence to freshen up. My medical resources know the drill. As for the girl..."  
Piercing grey eyes locked with neon green ones.  
"Her treatment of you is most interesting. Should you encounter her again, I want you to indulge her. Making her feel like you have a bond might come in more than handy. Any intelligence you can gather might prove valuable. After all, the whole city knows the Crownguards sit at the heart of that folly Demacian dogmatism. Beatrice!"  
Something cawed mechanically from a dark corner of Swain's office.  
There was a whirr, and all of a sudden, a drone of polished black steel whose appearance mimicked a bird sat on the shoulder of the strategist's tasteful suit.  
Swain raised his hand to its head and with a soft click, removed one of six glowing red orbs, then held it out for Darius to take. It was about the size of a marble and felt cold between his gloved fingers.  
"This will notify you of any new orders I have for you, specifically concerning your next target. Your computer at any of the bases will read it and show you the details, but the device is impenetrable to any algorithms unauthorized by Beatrice. Keep it on you at all times. Should you lose it, simply pay me a visit. I am supplied. Now, unfortunately, I must excuse myself. There is somewhere I need to be."  
Darius nodded and slipped the sphere into his pocket.  
"Will you tell the Faceless?"  
"That as well. Naturally."  
This time it was Swain who put a hand on his friend's shoulder.  
"You are doing great by the Noxian cause as always, Darius. Judging by Luxanna's actions, we can suspect the Crownguards are not as unified as they may seem, a priceless piece of information. With the Faceless' resources, we even might be able to turn the tide in our favor afterall. And may it be soon, before the Void comes knocking for the last time."  
A heavy tone settled in the man's features.  
"Something is approaching. I can feel it. I can't tell at what speed... But without doubt it will require action sooner rather than later. We have neither space nor time for the weak with a threat as great as this at our hands.  
“Still... " Swain's expression loosened slightly until resembled a firm smile.  
"We ought to thank the Crownguard daughter. Who knows what the Trifax would have been forced to set in motion had you been kept in custody."  
  
About an hour later, Darius left the sterile corridors and spotless floors of the residence and its recovery tract behind;  fully repaired and thoroughly examined, every flesh wound closed seamlessly, his familiar strength coursing through both his circulatory systems as anticipated.  
And yet, there was something rummaging inside of him that was no side effect of his elixir veins or recent injuries.  
It was worse than any cut, bruise, or internal bleeding.  
Why had hearing the Crownguard daughter's name from Swain's lips angered him? What did the General mean by something approaching?  
If Darius' deeds for Noxus really were that grand, why did he feel so hollow?

No shrill voice ripped Lux from her slumber, no hasty command to ready herself.  
There was only the soft, ethereal voice of the alarm belonging to her apartment ambience. Soft rays of morning light accompanied it, peeking through the blinds and dipping her skin in honey as gently spoken words coaxed the young woman into conscience.  
"Good morning, Luxanna. Today is Saturday, the thirteenth of October, 2 pm. Scheduled events for today are:"  
A rustle in the audio, and the flat sing-song was replaced by a recording of Lux's own voice, bustling with energy.  
"Some fancy ball thing that Mother's got planned. Everyone will be there, but don't worry! Just smile, and it'll be fine. It might even be fun! Oh, and remember to pick a dress you feel comfortable in! You can do this! - at 5 pm."  
The Luxanna of the present sighed and rolled on her back in a rustle of fabric and locks of golden hair, taking the blanket with her so that one leg lay exposed. Throwing a glance down her unshaven leg, she wriggled her toes and felt the early afternoon sun's warmth on them.  
Since it was the weekend, her apartment AI had woken her up after the appropriate amount of sleep based on the amount of strain put on her body before going to bed, which must have been... Well. It must have been rather generous.  
But Lux was perfectly relaxed now, perhaps exhaustion from a proper coup instead of her routined dry training had been exactly what she needed.  
A gentle frown spread across her lips as she recalled the events of the last twenty-four hours.  
Yesterday... Yesterday had been... Fun.  
On some level, she didn't like to admit it, but undeniably, it had been a while since Lux had felt this alive. Running with a Noxian, of all people! Better not to question it too much, as it certainly wouldn't happen again - Luxanna had duties, and one irresponsible adventure at a time was enough to clear her head for the tasks that really mattered.  
A content yawn broke free from her body as pale limbs stretched across stainless white sheets with a satisfied groan.  
Nevertheless, there was something amiss.  
If the clock didn't lie about it being 2 pm, how was it she has simply been left alone to sleep?  
Staying in bed this late was unladylike, according to her mother, not to mention the Crownguard family standards. In the best case, Mother Crownguard was simply occupied with party preparations.  
In the worst... No. Lux didn't want to think about her dad. So she wouldn't!  
What reason was there to assume the worst case, anyway?  
Determined, she heaved her torso upright and in one resolute motion swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Lux hadn't felt this energetic in weeks, but that was all right, since she was recharged now. She could smile now, and mean it. No more negative outlooks from her! Time to make the world a brighter place!  
Alright. Now that she was done hyping herself up, she had better get ready, too.

The first forty-five minutes vanished into breakfast entirely, and Lux ended up racing to her shower immediately after finishing the article the HoloPaper had indulged her with this morning.  
Someone in her position had to keep up to date, afterall! And besides, as she contemplated as the hot water warmed and rinsed her body, it was not everyday you could read on a public platform about a mysterious prison break you engineered yourself.  
The thought made Lux crack a mischief ridden smile to herself as she reached for the towel.  
Still rubbing it over her head with both hands - her mane always ended up at its softest when she refrained from using a hairdryer - the young woman stood in front of her closet, which sensed the motion and buzzed open obediently. One of the doors retreated into the wall, the other flickered for a moment as countless squares flipped on its surface and turned it into a mirror.  
In no way did Lux lack evening wear or any other means of dressing herself, but being raised as nobility had taught her to be wary of how to present herself.  
She had to have the impression she wanted to invoke in mind while carefully choosing her outfit.  
In retrospect, she should have made a more detailed voice memo for her alarm.  
Oh well, no matter the occasion, it was never a bad time for some glamour!  
Lux's hand sought out her favourite piece, a dress with a proper skirt that ended just above the knee, flared enough to be fit for dancing but not so much that it would be gaudy. The rich black of it, classic on the first look, was actually threaded with gold that came through where light fell on the fabric, perfectly contrasting her skin and matching her hair at the same time.  
A solid pick, no matter what the program of the evening was, and comfortable for movement and sitting alike.  
Lux was just about to turn to the bed and put it on when her gaze fell on another dress, brought to the light by her taking out its sibling.  
This was another sort of look, to be sure.  
The piece was composed of a holderless, skintight gradient dress, black at its upper edge but white at the lower, and made of a tenacious fabric that resembled leather rather than any other material.  
Ontop of it rested a thin, nearly see-through plastic film that acted like a sheening patina around the chest area. Beneath it, however, the surface parted from the base dress, reaching beyond its audaciously high set edge in a skirt that went from translucent to a cutting green that reached its peak intensity at the hem.  
Lux took a closer look.  
  
The green was a familiar one, and she only needed a moment to register it was the same hue she had encountered en masse on the floor, in a tank, on her own hands the previous day.  
She held it to her chest and observed herself in the mirror, imagining it smoothing against her frame, and in a sudden frenzy of curiosity, scrambled to put it on.  
The dress was tight enough to pronounce her body, but not too tight to comfortably breathe, and surprisingly stretchy around the legs. When had she even bought this dress? Even more strange, why had she never really worn it?  
It looked good on her.  
Sleek, enticing, almost dangerous.  
Slowed in time by her own fascination, Lux let her fingertips graze down her own sides and found them ornated by three green triangles each, pointing down. It seemed to her now that the acid colour glowed not only in comparison with her surroundings, but in all actually was luminescent.  
She could imagine how it would appear in a darker room, an Aurora Borealis swaying with every move she made without drawing all the attention from her bare shoulders and curve of her chest. Looking back at Lux from the mirror was no longer a girl, but a woman. No cadet, but a spitfire. No pawn, but a player.  
Silently, sneakily, a thought wriggled itself out of an uncharted area of Lux's brain. She let it be indulged.  
If ever, hypothetically speaking... Darius were to see her like this, in this dress, so much less bulky than armor, yet so much more imposing - what would he think?  
Would he notice the colour similarity between his second blood and the ornaments of her dress like she had? Would he admire the way the piece played around her body, obvious to her own eyes?  
Would he even care?  
Lux's silly questions were interrupted by the almost unnoticeable whirr of the elevator, delivering her mother, no doubt. It was too late to hide the dress behind her back like a preteen now, so the young Crownguard braced herself for an unpleasant reaction beforehand.  
Sure enough, it came - the look on her mother's face was one of shock at best and disgust at worst.  
"You're not planning on wearing _that_ to the party, are you?"  
And what if I was, Lux wanted to say. She didn't. She smiled instead.  
"No, mom."  
"Then why the dilly-dallying, hm?"  
Mother Crownguard was of course impeccably styled.  
The platinum ring she liked to wear around her brow had been replaced with three golden ones that matched her simplistic, but elegant jewelry and the half transparent shawl wrapping around her shoulders, providing a rich interplay with the royal blue of her long evening gown.  
Perfectly Demacian, perfectly boring.  
"What _are_ you planning on wearing, then?"  
Before Lux could tell her she'd intended to just go for her favourite, her mother cut her off in the same icy tone, hardly even throwing her a glance.  
"Wear the blue one, but for the sake of all that's holy, do your hair first. And hurry up, the shuttle is waiting."  
Lux wondered for a moment if her smile came across as tense yet - she knew it didn't, she had been trained too well.  
Sometimes she found herself wishing for a little rebellion at least through incapability. Whenever she did, she quickly wrestled those wishes back down.  
  
Lux's smile grew a little wider.  
"Yes, mom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, Chapter 3! Sorry this took so long, only to end up being more of a transitory one. But hey, this one's longer! I'm already halfway done with Ch. 4 as well, so fret not - that'll be a long one too. Furthermore, I'd wager at this point that the fic will amount to around 10-12 chapters, probably.  
> As always, let me know what you think and if it's comfortable to read! :>  
> Special thanks again goes to my beta reader starmakesart on tumblr. Go check her out!!
> 
> PS: For those of you interested, I've sketched Lux's and Darius' faces for this fic:  
> https://the-flying-beetle.tumblr.com/post/179097780058/since-im-writing-on-my-darilux-fic-again-i


	4. Suits and Suitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lux attends a ball and encounters a small variety of friends and foes.

Deus lay beneath a layer of fog thicker than it had been in weeks.  
Its citizens out and about at this hour found it hard to breathe; millions of lungs surprised they could draw air at all in surroundings in which seeing further than you could spit with no technological aid was a minor miracle.  
Now that night had fallen, countless lights were sent out by advertisements, shuttletubes, and even luminescent graffiti.  
Towards the higher, richer levels, they thinned out, traffic lights and directional arrows became the primary lightsource, seasoned with the occasional beam of a passing free flight shuttle.

Most of those underway this night were blue, turquoise, and occasionally pink, with colder colours being arguably the most up and coming this season by critics anyone bothered to listen to in the first place.  
Among the ever moving swarm of neon flashes, one of them set itself apart by sporting a brighter, warmer hue.  
The yellow beam slowed down, turning from a streak into two dots, and then into the flashlights of a shuttle. It parked more or less discreetly at the edge of the docking platform that doubled as the entry to a bigger vertical building, adjacent in its function directly to the hemisphere of Jarvan IV himself.

Lux, as the door of the shuttle slipped open and spit her out, was as aware of the location's alignment as any other person attending the party tonight, and she also knew nobody would directly mention it. The night air, flawed and strangely tepid as it was, still tasted sweet to her as she looked into the sky.  
The fog wasn't as thick up here as it was in the lower layers where ambience and industrial byproducts in gas form converged to produce something closer to soup than to air. It floated past whirring generators, dully pulsing clubs and neon brothel signs beckoning on every corner like sea-devil's bait.  
The lights Lux searched for were different. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to their new environment, so different from the overexposed inside of the shuttle, but sure enough, there they were.  
Explosions of purple on the horizon and above, contesting the city lights like false stars blinking in and out of existence.  
It provided a grim satisfaction to her that to remind herself what she was fighting against, Lux only ever had to take a look at the night sky.  
She wished more people would.  
Her gaze drifted from the signs of the menace surrounding them and followed along the sinfully clean bridge leading in a straight line from the docking platform to the hall in which the party would be hosted.  
The building was still separating said celebration and her with two sleek, but massive wings of a door as dark as ebony reaching far up the facade,  adorned with reserved art deco ornaments in a muted gold. They looked seriously heavy and difficult to move, but Lux knew them well enough by now. They would yield to the pushing of a single button and part like a guillotine's blade from its block.

"Everything alright, twinkles?"  
The young woman turned to find Garen approaching her from the shuttle.  
Soft mutters trickled out of the still opened door. Either their mother was encouraging their ailed father or threatening to kill the driver - even Lux had no way of telling. Her brother's words made her grin, at least. He could be so much fun with their parents out of reach, even for a moment.  
"Mom is going to kill you if you use that nickname anywhere near that place," she pointed towards the hall, "and I will neither be able to save you, nor will I want to."  
Garen straightened his collar and gave a chuckle.  
Tonight, the circles under his eyes weren't as deep as previously. At least this small observation was there to ease her mind.  
"Perhaps you're right - but that will only be relevant should you survive the onslaught of suitors long enough for me to find an opportunity."  
Lux stared dully at him for a moment.  
"Oh. Oh dear. I'm sorry, Lux, I thought you were aware. Gods, you're awfully pale all of a sudden."  
Garen's sister shook her head vehemently in the hopes of driving the blood back into it.  
"I definitely should have been. Thank you for warning me, Garen, this way I can prepare myself."  
She gave him a smile, which he returned.  
Not a second passed before a harsh 'bang' shook the two out of their moment. Mother and father Crownguard had emerged from the shuttle and were motioning for their children  to follow them towards the hall. The siblings lightly bowed their heads and did as they were asked.  
A few meters before the door, the procession stopped, and Garen offered Lux his arm with a mutter.  
"Ready?"  
She nodded. Lux had faced scarier than this.  
A cheery piano chord played, then the tall, dark doors started to spread and the world shifted around them.  
The relatively quiet night suddenly filled with music as the silhouettes of the Crownguard family were bathed in warm light. Lux took a deep breath and walked inside after her parents.

Before they had taken ten steps, Lux could already feel all the eyes on her.  
Her long, unpractical skirt rustled after her across the flawlessly shining obsidian surface.  
Granted, it was not an ugly dress - a dimmed hue of the typically Demacian shade of blue, instead imbued with a tasteful sparkling elicited by the silks which made up the second layer of the piece, following its sleeveless v-cut to the golden circlet wrapping as a belt beneath Lux's chest. From there on they parted in the middle, flowing apart around her waist and joined the general river of unnecessary fabric and angular gold patterns.  
None of that would do any good protecting her in this environment in which predators came in the shape of nobles, protégés, and even waiters.  
Lux had to assume that each and every one of them was out hunting for just the tiniest scrap of information they could turn into money or power of another shape trading with someone higher up the food chain.  
Now that her mother had bumbled off to kiss a few figurative rings, the cats were most likely getting ready to pounce.  
But Lux was by no means unprepared.

The young Crownguard had spent much time and energy trying to avoid situations that would require her to use the spy training given to her by her family, despite her reluctance. In a way, joining the Steel Legion was a triumph in that regard, but it came with the unspoken rule that during balls and galas, Lux was to pay for that privilege by making use of her espionage skills. She had experience flipping off suitors in a - sometimes less than more - polite way, dodging questions she didn't want to answer directly, and charming staff into varying favors.  
Today, however, she felt she would work no miracles. Not that her impenetrable smile wavered for even a second, but something, something she couldn't quite pin down, was rummaging through her head and rendering her rather unwilling to play the game.  
"Lux!"  
Lux turned her head and saw a familiar face grinning at her, as well as a familiar hand waving as Ezreal approached her from the area around the bar. Involuntarily, she had to grin back at him. There around his neck was the best thing she had seen all week - a bowtie. Fancy. Blue. Glittering so bright Lux could barely look at it.  
"Hey, Ez! Nice bow tie!"  
The Metroican smirked, and gave her a friendly once-over.  
"Thanks! I would've picked something more appropriate if anyone had told me the dresscode demanded a nightgown."  
Not a bad one, she had to give him that.  
"And I would laugh, if between the fragile things in this room, the crystal glasses weren't more expensive than your self-esteem."  
The two cadets stared at each other before breaking into laughter.  
It drew a few looks, but neither of them cared.  
"That's how you always get me," Ezreal wheezed, "I really should try and drag myself to burn you better some time, but I doubt I could pull it off more effectively than you."  
"That's just cause you're so full of yourself, Ez."  
"I am, aren't I?" he sighed with a smile, and offered the Lux an arm, who gladly took it, and together they sauntered over to the bar.  
"An orange juice, please. So what brings you here?"  
"Vodka. Well, the Legion, I suppose. Not you, then?"  
Lux shook her head.  
"Ah, sometimes I forget you're that fancy shmancy princess type. My bad."  
"Hey."  
"Hey yourself."  
The orange juice and vodka were placed before them. Ezreal picked up his drink and slammed it immediately, in front of a wide-eyed Lux merely pulling her glass near.  
"That... You drank that like it was water. And you went from my friend to some random jerkface in two seconds. Are you... Okay?"  
The blonde stared into his glass, looking conflicted.  
Now Lux felt bad for laying into him so hard. Banter was usually fun, until for one side, it wasn't.  
She was supposed to be his friend.  
"I'll stop teasing, Ez, I'm sorry. Please tell me what's up."  
He let out another sigh and ran his hand through his carefully styled hair, making the reflections on it dance.  
"No, you're fine, it's me. I guess I'm just in a... Weird spot. I'll get back to you on it, alright?"  
The epiphany of what was bothering her confidante hit Lux like a shuttle.  
"I- Yeah, of course. Take your time, I can wait."  
She smiled at him, but Ezreal's eyes remained at his empty drink.  
It would have been awkward to just keep looking at him in a similar fashion, so she turned her attention towards her own.  
It was good juice.  
A moment passed.  
"...Lux?"  
"Yes, Ezreal?"  
Slowly, Ezreal peered to the left over his shoulder at Lux and gave her a genuine, if slightly anxious lopsided grin.  
"Is the bowtie really that bad?"  
Lux laughed.  
"Yes, you dingus - but I know Taric will love it."

Once Ezreal had disappeared with her wish of Godspeed, Lux had time to invest in a good look around for the first time since she had entered the ballroom.  
The vast, circular hall was brimming with people; a mob so thick it would have been unbearable, if not for the ceiling that stretched upwards roundabout twice the diameter of the floor.  
Explicitly en vogue chandeliers largely constructed of coloured glass, encased by golden diamond shapes overlapping in perfect symmetry filled the space that would otherwise have appeared devoid.  
The light changed colour between several warm tones, basking the dancers and conversationalists beneath them in an almost sunset-like atmosphere. Lux suspected the heavier the emphasis on dancing would become, the more blue, purple and turquoise would find a home in the hall.  
But for her current situation, the amount of people simply meant that even if she had tried to, she could not have seen Swain coming until the second he suddenly stood in front of her. Lux had never seen anyone in suspenders retaining such an air of pure calculus and power.  
The General's old flashes glistened as new on his heavy uniform coat, which he wore casually thrown across his shoulders. She had to give the man credit for bringing that relic to the occasion as a clearly traditionalist sign, and simultaneously make it seem like part of a dress code Swain himself didn't take too seriously.  
Like it was obligatory to parade the proof of his merit to Deus and the city's routes, just so that the public wouldn't be disappointed they were missing.  
Plus, together with his pinstripe shirt, black slacks and dress shoes, it undoubtedly made quite the look.  
A look that put Swain one cigar away from coming across like a mafia patriarch, which was probably intentional. Who knew, Lux thought, perhaps he had been that all along.  
The thought was at least entertaining enough, in a sardonic way.  
It took all of her self control to maintain her smile when unexpectedly, an elegant figure slinked into vision from behind the General's shoulder.  
It was tied back into a complicated updo tonight and shining perhaps a tad more lusciously than the last time she had gotten a look at it, but that red hair was unmistakable.  
Unlike most women at the party, Lux and her mother included, Katarina Du Couteau wore no headband or flapper of any sort.  
Her dress was fairly simple as well, jet black, holderless and tight, but reaching to the floor.  
The redhead's eyeliner could have cut steel, but there was no visible handbag to hold wet towels or backup makeup.  
Lux was genuinely impressed.  
She doubted Garen would stand much of a chance of whatever Katarina had planned to do to him in this outfit - everything from heated makeouts to drawing insider secrets was, for all she knew, possible - so the young Crownguard felt there was a particular significance to herself standing strong in this encounter.  
With full force, she beamed right into the menacing duo's faces.  
"Good evening, General! Miss Du Couteau, you look ravishing. You simply must tell me where you bought that dress?"  
"Miss Crownguard. An honor, as always."  
Swain didn't seem particularly impressed, but Katarina, despite her sly smile, looked almost offended. With two fluidly executed sidesteps, she closed the distance between her and Lux, one hand on her cheek.  
"I think not, my dear. Black simply isn't your colour." She gave the blonde a pat on the shoulder, and a condescending wink.  
Lux herself had miraculously not even flinched and was ready to throw back a sassy remark when an icy voice cut the conversation from behind the ex-Noxians' backs.  
"Grand General. It has been awhile."  
A bitter smirk flashed over Swain's stiff features for a fractured second, and he turned around. Not abruptly, by any means, but taking his time and greeting Luxanna's mother with an expression suggesting he had been expecting her. Katarina, on the other hand, looked like a startled kitten.  
"Augatha. What a pleasant surprise."  
"Jericho. Still slipping lines from the cinematograph, I see, in addition to stealing my daughter."  
Katarina backed away as the Crownguard matriarch claimed a spot next to her daughter, shooting freezing looks of pure calculation past Lux's shoulder, right at the redhead, who was obviously more fazed than she thought she appeared.  
"I'm beginning to think theft is the only thing you still excel at."  
Swain's eyes narrowed dangerously.  
"One must admire the Demacian courage, uttering such statements within the protection of Noxian walls."  
Lux felt a figurative sweatdrop running down her temple as she realised she had no reason to be sure that neither of the older politicians clashing in front of her had not actually brought a gun of some sort.  
Even more disturbingly, the passion in their glares seemed enough to fuel a heated hate-affair.  
Now, if Lux pursued that line of thought, it really was only a matter of minutes before her facade would crack and come crashing down.  
Luckily, Augatha Crownguard remained an expert in interrupting conversations and thoughts alike.  
"Well, Jericho, bring as many attractive young associates as you wish, I won't give up my children without a fight. Luxanna has some very charming, young... Well-mannered men to meet."  
Oh, the irony.  
Mother Crownguard must have had expected Katarina to blush with anger, but apart from the obligatory, even polite scowl, Katarina emitted more of a 'fair enough' vibe which almost got a chuckle out of Lux.  
Her mother, clearly unwilling to lose ground, neither metaphorically nor literally, just sort of glared at the two expectantly.  
Swain most likely had his own places to be. He motioned subtly to Katarina, who was already vanishing behind him, obviously comfortable with being labeled as ill behaved, and thus not even bothering with a goodbye.  
"Until we meet again, Mrs. and Ms. Crownguard."  
A fluttering of his coat, and the Grand General had submerged in the crowd.

"Good work, Luxanna."  
Lux blinked at her mother cluelessly, the corners of her mouth curling up involuntarily like a reflex to defend herself.  
The older woman didn't gratify her with eye contact, instead searching the writing masses for... Something.  
"You didn't so much as blink. I could see the training was not wasted on you. Yours will be a valuable asset to any influential family whose heir is here tonight. Have you learned anything interesting yet?"  
"I..." Suddenly, Lux found herself at a loss for words, fingers toying almost unnoticeably with her silks.  
They were sweaty and cold as the silk was lifeless and unavailable to provide any real comfort.  
"I'm afraid I haven't as of yet, mother."  
"Don't burden yourself with that tonight, child. I want you to have fun." Finally, Luxanna's mother looked at her, and Lux could nearly believe her smile.  
"Come on. There is an array of handsome young men just dying to meet you."  
"Yes, mother."

Katarina's green eyes were nervously flickering left and right.  
"Are you certain she bought it? I wasn't exactly subtle."  
Swain scoffed, and threw a devastating glance at the wine bottle he had raised to the light.  
"We did not need to be subtle. We _want_ her to find the tracker, Katarina. Or rather, either outcome is favorable for us."  
The young woman frowned, signaled the bartender, and pointed out a cheap gin sitting high on the bar shelf, earning a disgusted scoff from her superior.  
"Would you mind explaining that to me?"  
Swain kept silent for a moment, staring at the bottle's label some more before confirming his choice and sliding the bartender an extra 1000 credits with the cash.  
"It's more than simple. Obviously, should she not find the tracker, or pretend not to find it, we monitor her movement patterns and you deploy your assassins accordingly. Checking for traps beforehand is of course advisable, but taking out the Lady of Luminosity at the cost of an elimination team is a worthy trade."  
Katarina, by now radiating unease, raised an eyebrow.  
"I am going to pretend I didn't see that," snarled Swain, and poured himself a glass of freshly uncorked wine.  
"What if she does find the tracker, then?"  
"She will run to her mother, or go investigating on her own. The tracker carries Beatrice, so I can crash the line and erase all documentation of it within seconds, should Augatha get her hands on it. I have no doubt she will recognize the technology, though.  
If we're lucky, there may be so much as a blind attack of some sort, in any case, there is a decent chance she will file a charge against me, or us."  
That way we can have her punished and more importantly, publicly discredited for false accusations. Should Luxanna play the sleuth..."  
The Grand General allowed himself a quiet moment to appreciate the wine, ignoring his subordinate's poorly concealed frown.  
"Well, sleuths have always been inviting their own murder, haven't they?"

At this point, Lux's smile was nothing but overused.  
She found herself desperately hoping that any of the young "Demacian" nobles, all those Merions, Tobinas and Symons, who, by their families, should at least have been trained in etiquette, would pick up on her hints. How many averted eyes, cramped laughs and curt answers did it take to signal to every potential suitor in the room that Lux wanted nothing in this moment but to get out?  
But one after another lingered, staying beyond her mother's introductions and the basic pleasantries.  
Lux, who had tried and failed to jump off the matchmaking carousel by pretending to get a fresh drink once or twice, had half given up hope she would ever escape the party.  
When she threw a glance behind the fourth Juliaen of the night and spotted a tall, broad shouldered figure slowly making their way towards them, it took her a moment to realise she wasn't looking at another fifteen minutes of torture, but a glimpse of hope.  
"Luxanna! I haven't seen you on the dancefloor all night. What do you have to say for yourself?"  
Jarvan's voice was booming enough to make the seemingly fraternal hand on the suitor's shoulder an otherwise unnecessary show of authority.  
The gesture in itself, but not the authority was lost on Augatha Crownguard, who courtsied - Lux almost rolled her eyes.  
"Your Royal Highness, Mr. Lightshield," her mother said matter-of-factly, but not without respect.  
Jarvan simply shook his head.  
"None of that, please. We are here to enjoy ourselves, are we not?" He gave the intimidated to speechlessness young man next to him a pat, and the suitor gratefully scooted away into the crowd.  
"All thanks to you, your Royal highness," Augatha answered in a calm voice, "and your willingness to provide a location for young Marelon Costedge's birthday."  
"I couldn't refuse you if I wanted to, Mrs. Crownguard. However, I am afraid I have to steal your enchanting daughter for a while - there are a number of my friends eager to make her acquaintance."  
Jarvan gave her a benevolent smile, which Augatha seemed to interpret a certain way. She smiled, something akin to relief written in her features.  
"Of course, your Royal Highness. She is all yours."  
"I promise to treat her well."  
The Lightshield heir took Lux's hand comfortably in his own, and with a smile over his massive shoulder, led her through the crowds. Suddenly, the people were thinning, and not from Jarvan's mere presence - the would-be prince understood how to blend in, with no signs of regalty other than a very fine suit.  
Instead, before she knew it, Lux found herself tasting fresh air again as Jarvan pulled her out onto a strangely abandoned balcony. He let go of her hand, and in lack of any other reaction she laughed, leaning on the handrail and beaming into the desolation laid out before them, then at her rescuer.  
"I thought I was going to suffocate in there. Thank you, Jarvan, I'll have to make a memo to congratulate Garen on his choice of friends."  
Jarvan raised an eyebrow and gave her a pained grin.  
"Lux, please. I've got enough people kissing my ass, not you too."  
"Sorry, my bad. I guess I'm a bit out of touch at this point. How's Vana?"  
"I was hoping you could tell me. Not sure why... We both know how she is."  
"Training too hard to maintain proper contact, yes."  
Lux didn't blame her friend for barely responding to her texts. The few years of age the other steel legionnaire had put her at a higher rank, and right in front of a series of exams and sport tests. It would have been hard enough without Shyvana's heritages forcing her to kick twice as hard for acceptance and success as most of her fellow cadets.  
Although according to her, the Steel Legion was the best, most tolerant thing to ever happen to her. Maybe Jarvan was entertaining the same thought as Lux, staring wistfully into the fog like that, but she had a different suspicion.  
"So... you still have that huge crush on her, huh?"  
The would-be prince shot up from his leaning position in an instant.  
"What? A crush?" A nervous laugh escaped him, and Lux put her hands on her hips in expectation.  
"Who's got a crush? Why are we even talking about this? I seriously only wanted to give you an opportunity of escape. Also, I'm the uh, I'm the prince."  
Lux rolled her eyes - apparently this was still a topic for many hours of introspect from her quasi-cousin later.  
She gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder, and smiled.  
"And I am most grateful, Your Royal Highness. If you don't mind, this humble servant will redact herself from your presence now."  
Jarvan, apparently quite exhausted with himself, sighed and ran a hand over his face.  
"Sorry. Yeah, do that. Oh, and Lux?"  
Lux turned on her heel to find him giving her a conspiratorial grin.  
"A friend of mine named Quinn legged it earlier after drinking one too much. Tell your mother she took you for a round in her shuttle just before the Buvelle daughter's performance. It should start soon, if I'm not wrong. Nobody will notice anything once it starts, anyway, and Quinn will believe anything I tell her in the morning. Besides, she already thinks you're cute."  
"I'm not getting engaged anytime soon, Jarvan!"  
Her friend shrugged with a smile.  
"Worth a shot. Better Quinn than one of those, what was the name? Juliaens."  
She threw her head back and laughed, the fresh air lifting her spirits in spite of everything.  
"Well, I legitimately can't argue with that."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey people! Is anyone still reading this? I swear, next chapter there will be more DariLux interactions! I didn't intend for this to be so long, but the plot demands a sacrifice...  
> I'm very sorry if I've pissed off anyone called Julian, it's just that in Germany right now, every second dude my age is called that and it really ruins an otherwisde beautiful name for me.
> 
> Also, introducing Katarina and Jarvan!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed my writing and would love some feedback, as always! :>


End file.
